Language Charades

Yesterday evening we took my parents over to my husband's Grandmother's place for a new years lanche (snack). It was entertaining on all accounts.

Out of the 25 people attending from Mr. Rant's family, about 5 spoke English. That leaves my parents sitting like the big pink gringo elephants in the room.

The best moment is when the uncles come and chat. Their English is good for someone who doesn't use it regularly, but they still need help. That is when the impromptu charade games start. Even though I am there to help translate, the vocabulary they needed help on is super random. Examples from yesterday: exhaust pipe, chrome and off the shelf technical material. Fyi, between the two uncles and my Father they were discussing building motorcycles and military issues in both countries. Last time I checked you are supposed to have easy light chit chat when you don't speak the language.

Regardless, it was absolutely adorable to see all the effort going into making my parents feel involved and comfortable. Even one of the cousins came and took over as the official unofficial random word translator. A good time was officially had by all.

At one point though, Mr. Rant and his cousin wanted to play a joke on my Father and their Uncle. They wanted to tell the uncle the wrong word. For example, instead of translating seat, the word he wants, telling him hammer or something like that. Just enough to confuse the crap out of the two men. I said hell no. They gave me shit for not playing along.

What do you think? Personally, I think the men were having a hard enough time as it was. 

Drama for Christmas: Thank You Santa

AWESOME photo from: http://www.catherinehall.net/blog/2010/12/22/8_reasons_i_love_christmas/

It wouldn't be Christmas in Brazil without a little bit of family drama now would it?

Mr. Rant and I started asking around about Christmas plans early because my parents are coming this year. The norm from years past meant that we would spend Christmas Eve night (the big night of celebration here) at Mr. Rant's Maternal Grandmother's place. We would then have Christmas day lunch at Mr. Rant's Paternal Grandmother's place.

This year we can not have Christmas eve because the Grandmother died last year a week or so before Christmas. I'm horrible in that I think that it is a crap excuse. The Grandma would want us to have the same party. She lived for that! This woman was hardcore and she wouldn't be phased by death. Hell, she outlived most of her relatives. But this is coming from someone who lost all but one Grandmother early in life. It's sad but normal for me. They got to have her for so long. I figure that is even more reason to celebrate and continue the traditions she started. To each their own I suppose.

Anyway, my in-laws stated early on that they were going to stay in the country. Without other conflicts, the rest of the family was going to celebrate with each of their other side.

So the Christmas day lunch didn't seem to be happening either. The Grandparents are getting up there in age and it's a lot of work to have all 1 billion of their offspring and their offspring's offsprings and spouses over. They were leaning towards keeping it mellow.

Since I suffer from American planning ADD, I resolved to keep the Christmas spirit going and host a lunch for my parents and a friend and her parents who are visiting from Finland. Well, once a lunch was announced my in-laws decided they could come in, if I made it a reasonably early lunch. Alright, I decided I can make a lighter big Christmas breakfast and we will have lunch around 1230 (thank goodness for air-conditioning).

Now it seems that I am making a new Brazilian tradition. The Aunts from the Christmas eve group will also be joining us. Each one has told me they will be bringing something. Something, like a cod fish dish or ham or something. Something. I personally love this because it makes me feel like a real daughter. The women have a claim over my home, my lunch, and whatever it is I serve. Damn right, I am a part of this family!

We now also have a lanche (snack) date with my Father-in-law's side. At 4pm on Christmas day, we are to go over to celebrate and have a snack. I love this because I will get to see everyone, and on the day that I consider important!

Let's also not forget the newly announced possible Christmas Eve dinner held by Mr. Rant's Maternal Aunt. So while it will not be the same as before, there is so no way that we will eat before 10pm nor get out of there before midnight. Brazilian custom.

That, of course, means that I will be baking for 2 days, receiving my parents on the 24th, playing Santa late on Christmas eve, eating a big Christmas Eve dinner, big Christmas breakfast, big Christmas lunch, and a big Christmas snack.

I'm thinking about asking for endorsements from companies. They could match the amount of food I eat in that 48 hrs and then donate it to the homeless. Imagine the amount of mouths we could feed!

The Annual Argument

Mr. Rant and I have our annual argument today. It comes about at some kind of family lunch or event. It is always centered on our children and it is fully due to cultural differences.

I don't know why I let it get to me still. It really is just the culmination of a bunch of tiny little things over a lunch or a family weekend that seem to push me over the edge.

Take today for instance. My Mother-in-law was kind enough to take it upon herself to make my boys' plates at lunch. I have no idea why it rubbed me the wrong way because what she was doing was her being helpful. But I have just never warmed to the idea of my children equally belonging to everyone in the family. It annoyed me to see her automatically determining what they would eat and not at all consulting me. At the same time, we live here. She is with the boys all the time. It's not like their habits are a mystery to her. Just the same, I felt that burning annoyed feeling when she cut up pork on Chatterbox's plate, the exact meat I had just finished saying that I do not think is good to eat. Side note, I think pork (minus sausage because there's no real meat in it anyway) is a dirty meat. I do not purchase or serve it to my family.

So that was the first annoyance, and I'll admit that it was something I should be over by now as it has been the story of my life here. No one died. Chatterbox was happy eating it. Not a biggie...

Then the Menace decided he wanted to roam around the restaurant. I'm not too anal about this but I do expect my kid to finish eating before they start running amok. But today there was a little girl sitting behind us and the family thought it was adorable that the Menace wanted to talk to her. I was thoroughly annoyed because we are working on exactly this with the Menace, sitting down to eat and then getting up. I'm being a hardass as he has been being a pain in the ass.

Was this respected? Nope. And since I was already cranky I did actually put my foot down. I told them no, the Menace got a talking to, and he actually cried. I thought I was going to get stoned right there in the restaurant. Holy crap I held my almost 3 yr old accountable and he did not like it. How dare I! I obviously should have been like the woman with the 4 yr old girl who had to keep calling her back to the table to spoon a mouthful in before she ran off again.

The Menace and the family ended up winning that one as it had jumped into the impossible battle.
But I informed him, if you don't sit to eat you don't get ice cream afterward. He accepted that, played with the girl, and ran back to grab bits of food off his plate occasionally.

And it is just this that I find so frustrating. I know we are at a restaurant with the family but why because we are with them do I lose rule over my own children?! How is that? Of course I am the only one bothered by it as the Grandparents take control and my kids obviously choose the way which means they get to do whatever the hell they want.

Anyway, we finally left the restaurant and headed out for ice cream. The in-laws didn't think that I was going to stick with the rules. They actually called the Menace over to get ice cream. I didn't let it happen and the Menace accepted it. He saw Chatterbox with his and when he asked for some I asked him "Did we sit and eat our lunch?" He smiled, said no, and went on with his life.

That is just the thing, culturally Brazilians are not as rigid with their kids as some of us Americans are. Sleep routines, bedtimes, consequences, or standard rules are not part of the day. Just like the rest of life, in Rio de Janeiro at least, they just go with the flow. You know what, it works for them. I see parents spoon feeding  7 yr olds at restaurants or small children out until midnight during the week and everyone seems ok with it. I have Moms tell me that their children will only eat sausage and thus that is what they feed them, everyday. Fair enough. To each their own. They obviously didn't grow up in my home where I quickly learned what "putting your foot down" means.

But as someone who is so not like that, it drives me insane. I can be pretty damn flexible with my kids but I draw the line at running after them to eat. I can not stand listening to people trying to convince kids to please do something. No, you do it or you don't get to do this. If you are fine with that then great. If not, do what you are supposed to. There is room for discussion but not everything is a discussion. I'm sorry but I just don't have the time nor the energy for it.

And it drives me insane to feel like someone is undermining my parenting because they feel that they can handle it better, as if they are coming in to save the children and smooth things over. Back off dude. I am the Mother.

At the same time, it is never going to change. In Brazil the Grandparents, Uncles, Aunts, close friends etc have a certain amount of authority with your kids. In some ways it is great, in others it is extremely annoying. The key though, it is not done maliciously. No one is trying to actually undermine me or anything like that. In their way they are helping. They are being involved as all good Brazilian family members are. I can totally appreciate the positive and helpful place it comes from. I know my in-laws and the rest of the family adore me and my kids. We are their family. Though sometimes the American in me wants to throw a stinking fit and cry.

Oh wait, I did that this afternoon. I guess you can check that off the to do list. ;)

Freaking cultural differences! Which ones have you experienced? 

I Was Played

I don't know if you remember my post about my standoff with Mr. Rant's Grandmother over goodie bags. If you don't, I said that I had thought that I had outsmarted her. I was sure that I had guarded those bad boys with the skill of a well oiled machine.

I should have known better. Today we had lunch with her at her apartment. At some point during the post meal digesting and chatting period the Grandma starting pulling out the toys that were given in the goodie bags. She was giving them to my boys to play with.

My guess is that she was going for the second bag when I snagged her.

Well played Granny! Well played!

The Standoff

Last night I had the standoff of my year. It was between me and the Grandmother of Mr. Rant, the Great-Grandmother of the Chatterbox.

You see, she steals goodie bags. I guess you can't say she steals them but actually takes them to give them to other random children like her maid's kids and such.

It really is a cultural thing. All Brazilians have this idea that they are entitled to a goodie bag if they should even know of a child around the age of the birthday boy. This is normally ok but I am that weird Mother who takes her kid's goodie bags way too seriously. No crap, nothing that doesn't even work when you take it out, and definitely not all candy.

This year my parents were rock stars and mailed a box of US goodies you just can't find here. We're talking sticky hands, flyers, and finger flashlights among other things. So when I managed to only make 48 goodie bags, and at least 40 kids were definitely showing up, I knew I'd have to take the Monarch down.

It's not as easy as it sounds. Trust me! When your child's Brazilian Great-Grandmother makes a request, you do not say no! For example, when she makes an effort to bring you a cup canjica she sweetly made for the party, even though it really doesn't go with your beer and hot dog, you eat it. It's just how things roll.

So when she came up and requested a couple of goodie bags I had to hold my ground. Honestly, I had to picture crying children and Mr. Rant scolding me for not being more prepared. I told her "Sorry Grandma but there may not be enough bags. More people came than expected but if any are left over I will bring them over to your place on Monday."

Of course she replied "oh but only 2. For sure 2 is ok."

"Sorry Grandma, I can't. I don't know if we have enough. I promise you will be the first to know if any are left over though!"

A short time later I finally got to leave my goodie bag post as people were not hovering over me like happy cake fed vultures.

The moment I left the table I turned back. Call it instinct, call it knowing better, call it life experience. There circling the good bag box was the Great-Grandma. She was slow, smooth, and innocent but I knew better.

When I sauntered up to the table I got the famous granny 'You may have caught me but I'm too damn cute for you to say anything grin' and she shuffled away. This much sass from an 87 yr old. I would love to have seen her at 20!

By the way, I had the perfect number of gift bags! 48 bags to 48 kids exactly! 

Say What?!

I had a "Say What?!" moment this weekend.

On Sunday we all headed down to a charity Feijoada with the family. I was hanging with the kiddos making sure they only got into innocent trouble when some dude came up to chat with them. Of course he somehow knew that Chatterbox is half American. Random news travels fast when served over rice, beans, and sausage.

The funny part was his reaction. When he talked to Chatterbox, he spoke in Portuguese. Obviously Chatterbox, being surrounded by Brazilian children as well, responded in Portuguese. Then man's reaction:

"WOW! You speak Portuguese really well!"

Say what? The man knows my kid's entire Brazilian extended family.We live in Brazil. His Father is Brazilian. Of course he speaks Portuguese!

And I know maybe for some reason or other, he thought that I would completely ignore the language of my son's home country, the language of his father, and the language of his family. I get that.

But the guy continued with his amazement and then it came out that he was not surprised at all that Chatterbox speaks English. Portuguese, for the half Brazilian kid living in Brazil surrounded by a Brazilian family, was the surprise.

It's moments like these when I wish we were teaching him some random 3rd language and I could say "Sorry, he only speaks Mandarin." 

Mr. Rant's Grandpa's Rule for a Long Life

Old Photo of the Grandpa explaining the beauties of oranges to a pregnant me 

Mr. Rant's Grandfather has rules for living a healthy life. Goodness knows where these rules come from but they seem to work. The man is 93 years old and other members of his family lived passed 100!

Personally, I'll take 90 and then go on my way. I'm not into the idea of being the person dusted in the corner, and knowing my lazy ass I will be!  I suppose I should start following these rules anyway as the average lifespan in my family is about 70 years old, maybe not even that.

So here are his rules:

1. Start your day with a glass of water. Drink or eat nothing else before your glass of water.

2. Have a fruit smoothie every morning. His has a base of orange juice and usually includes a papaya and banana along with numerous grains such as cerveja (wheat used to make beer).

3. Eat well. This man, at his 93 yrs of age, eats like a horse. Actually, more like a Northeastern horse. Yes, that means significantly more food and spicier. FYI: This means real food and not microwavable crap.

4. Clean out your nose. I find this disgusting, Mr. Rant is a HUGE fan of it, and I read that it is actually good for you. You basically go to the sink, put some water up there, and then you blow it out. Nauseating for me to hear in the am but supposedly good for your sinuses.

5. Stay active. This man was active until like 3 years ago. He did the Saturday morning farmer's market run for his household, ran errands in downtown Rio, and did it all sporting a button up shirt and slacks.

There you have it. These are the tricks to living a longer and healthier life. There are also a few things that I have observed him doing that are not necessarily rules. He eats a lot of oranges, at least one after meals. He says it aides in digestion. Fish is at least a weekly part of his diet. His wife also cooks dark leafy greens in their homemade black beans. That means double the goodness.

Last but certainly not least, napping is good.

Who Says You're the Black Sheep?!

The problem with self-proclaimed titles is that people usually don't agree with them.  I'd have to say that was the case this weekend.

The whole reason behind going to Buzios was to do a send off to the Grandmother who passed last December. She has essentially been potted in a beautiful pot below a lovely little bush. It's her spot in her garden where her lover of over 20s can go and talk to her. Him or anyone else who needs the ear of our lovely Grandmother.

Of course a couple of self-proclaimed black sheeps did not show up. They could not be bothered to go on a fully sponsored weekend trip to Buzios, transportation included. Oh yes, the fabulous Grandmother was so loved that we even had a sponsorship to send her off in style.

And when you consider yourself the "black sheeps" of the family, you obviously can't go. No no, that would require you to think about someone other than yourself. I'm sorry but my experience with so-called black sheeps is that they are usually Debbie Downers who spend too much time thinking about themselves.

Yes, family can be a bitch sometimes and no they will not agree with everything you do. Oh and let's not forget that most of them will also let you know they they don't agree. But this pretty much goes for everyone besides the self-proclaimed Golden child who wouldn't bother listening in the first place. Gold makes you hard  of hearing, it's just how it is.

Oh the charms of family.

Now, when you are repeatedly invited to the spreading of the ashes of the heart of the family, you go. If you really were the black sheep no one would call you. Did you not get the memo on what a black sheep really is?

This is especially annoying when the black sheep seem to attack the ones who love and care about them the most. Case in point, the passed Grandmother and her visiting sister, the tiavó (means Great Aunt but literally translates as Aunt-Grandma, which fits Brazilian family style much better.) These women are the head of the family! If we were Mafia, the passed Grandma could put a hit out on them from the grave. That's how high up she and her sister are!

So freaking hell, pull the stick out of your ass and pay respect to the elders! They are the ones who truly miss your presence, as we younger ones lack the understanding they have for your temperamental personalities.  We also lack the patience for these little games. We're grown-ups now. If you are going to pout and stay home, you are going to be the one missing out and no one is going to lose sleep over it.

And no, they didn't come. We youngsters were even holding out hope that they'd show up on their own. But no, they couldn't be bothered to show respect for a woman who took care of them, opened her home to them, many MANY times paid for them, and loved them more than they will ever love themselves. Hell, they couldn't even bother to show up and wish happy Mother's Day to the Mothers of their family.

Nope, these cousins dropped the ball big time and it left a stain in my book.

Then again, I'm not one to throw a pity party for the overly-sensitive. Just ask my family. Actually, maybe you shouldn't say anything to my family as they think I am the over-sensitive one. Definitely don't ask our self-proclaimed black sheep! He's still not talking to me because of the whole Christmas blog post.

Ah well, a family wouldn't be family without self-proclaimed titles. What's yours? You know you have one!